OZ, Land of the Unemployed
by Anne Khushrenada
Summary: My first attempt at Gundam humor, in which the Specials are fired, the ladies of OZ seek revenge upon the paperboy, and hiliarity ensues. Rated PG for Wufei-bashing (and lots of it!), language, and cartoon violence. :)


Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters do not   
belong to me, but to the good people of Sunrise,   
Sotsu, Bandai, and quite possibly various others,   
whose names I cannot possibly keep track of, but who,   
I'm sure, know exactly who they are.  
  
* * *  
  
"OZ, Land of the Unemployed"  
by Christine Anderson  
aka Anne Khushrenada  
ladyune@gundamwing.net  
  
Treize Khushrenada whistled a cheery tune as he   
breezed into the OZ Headquarters building bright and   
early on a Saturday morning. He smiled and nodded to   
the janitor who was mopping the tiled corridor   
outside his office.  
  
"G'morning, Mister Treize," said the janitor, whose   
name was Eddie.  
  
"It *is* a lovely morning, isn't it, Edward?" Treize   
asked. "How're the wife and kids?"  
  
"Doin' just fine, thank you for asking, sir. And   
how're you?" Eddie asked, pausing to prop his mop up   
against the wall.  
  
"Very well, thank you, Edward."  
  
"That's mighty good to hear, sir."  
  
Treize nodded. "I think so myself, too. Anyone else   
in today, Edward?"  
  
"Nope," was the janitor's reply. "Damned window-  
washers are going to be late again, I swear it. And-   
I think one of the other janitors knocked over that   
vase on Lady Une's desk..."  
  
Treize's eyes narrowed. "Um. Broke it, too, I   
suppose?"  
  
Eddie nodded. "Yep. Broke the vase, and stepped on   
those pretty flowers, too."  
  
"That simply will not do." Treize fished out his   
wallet and handed Eddie a few credit chips. "Would   
you do something for me, Edward? On your lunch hour,   
replace the vase."  
  
"Sure thing, sir," Eddie said. "What about the   
flowers?"  
  
"I'll replace the roses myself," Treize told him.   
"And we won't upset the lady by mentioning this   
unfortunate incident, will we?"  
  
"Mention what?" Eddie asked.  
  
Treize nodded. "Good man." He unlocked the door to   
his office and turned the knob. "All finished in   
here?"  
  
"Yep. Oh- that General Whatsisname was by earlier,   
dumped a bunch of stuff on your desk before he left."  
  
Treize sighed. "I don't suppose you happened to   
mistake it for the trash, did you?"  
  
Eddie shook his head. "Naw. Might've been important   
stuff, ya know?"  
  
"Maybe, but I doubt it. See you, Edward."  
  
Treize stepped into his office and kicked the door   
most of the way closed behind him. It really was just   
like his superior, the General, to stop by on the   
weekend just to give him more work. As if he, the   
Specials' commander, didn't have more than enough to   
do already... He sighed, sat down behind his desk,   
and lifted the first item from the pile.  
  
It was a small, thin slip of pink paper, a carbon of   
some form. Treize squinted at the small, narrow blue   
lettering on it. "Regret to inform you..." he read   
aloud quietly to himself, "..due to unexpected budget   
cuts, the Organization of the Zodiac shall no longer   
require- Damn!"  
  
He squinted at the slip again, certain he'd read it   
wrong. It simply could not be. OZ needed him. Hadn't   
his superiors told him so more times than he could   
count? Hadn't they-?  
  
Treize sighed. Well. If it was some sort of error,   
there was only one way to sort it out. He reached out   
to the communications screen before him on the desk   
and punched in the General's home number.  
  
"Septum here," said the man who answered the call.  
  
Treize saluted, feeling rather stupid making such a   
gesture to the ugly little man on his screen. "Sir,   
Colonel Treize-"  
  
"I know who you are," General Septum growled at him.   
"What do you want, Treize?"  
  
Treize's ice-blue eyes narrowed. Technically, this   
man was his superior. But. Treize was the Specials'   
commander, which meant that even though their ranks   
were not equal, his and the General's positions more   
or less *were*. Aside from which, Treize wasn't some   
private fresh out of Victoria, and he knew himself to   
be a better man than the general by far- not to   
mention a better officer. This pathetic, common-born   
piece of scum still thought he could command Treize,   
and that Treize would listen. He was about to learn   
differently.  
  
"I would very much like it, sir," Treize said icily,   
"if you could explain to me this 'thing' which was   
located on my desk when I arrived this morning."  
  
"Oh, that. It's what we call a pink slip, Treize."   
The General's tone, unkind before, was only   
patronizing now. "I'm truly sorry, my boy, but the   
Federation's cutting our budget again, and we just   
can't afford- well, a lot of things really, but   
mostly the Specials. Those suits of yours don't come   
cheap, you know, and neither do your salaries."  
  
"My people," Treize said flatly, "deserve the best   
machines available, and cannot make due with less.   
Furthermore, these people do have to *live* in-  
between defending Earth against the colonies' rabble.   
Or were you unaware of these facts?"  
  
"Don't patronize me, Treize, you twit," Septum   
snarled. "You're fired. You, and your pal Zechs, and   
every last member of the Specials. End of story. Now   
if you'll excuse me, I'm late for a golf game."  
  
Before Treize could reply, the screen blanked out.   
"Asshole," he said quietly, his hand curling into a   
fist around the pink slip, crumpling it into a ball,   
which he tossed at the trash can. It bounced off the   
can's rim, zipping into the corner, where Treize   
decided to leave it.  
  
"I do *not* believe this," Treize muttered, tapping   
the screen's on button again and punching in another   
number.  
  
"Hello. You have reached the Zechs Merquise   
residence. I'm not home at the moment, but if you   
leave a message, I may, if I choose, return your   
call." A beep followed this pronouncement.  
  
"Zechs? Pick up, old friend. It's Treize." He paused,   
but there was no answer. "Zechs, damnit, it's   
important. I mean it, we may have a serious problem-"  
  
"Alright, alright, already," came the groggy-sounding   
voice of Treize's friend Zechs, as he turned to face   
the screen, brushing sleep-tangled hair out of his   
eyes. "What the hell are you doing up so early,   
anyway? And on a Saturday, no less?"  
  
Treize sighed. "I'm sorry, old friend, I really am.   
But... I just got off the line with the General."  
  
Zechs made a rude gesture at the mention of their   
boss. "Ugh. That explains why you look so cheerful,   
at least."  
  
"Zechs, there's not really any easy way to say this.   
I've been fired. Actually, all the Specials have   
been. Budget cuts, the General says."  
  
Zechs blinked at the screen, rubbing sleep from his   
eyes. "Treize, pal, that must have been some reeealy   
nasty brew Otto and I had last night, 'cause man, I   
swear you just said we're all fired."  
  
Treize briefly covered his eyes with one hand.   
Terrific. Zechs was hitting the bottle again. Otto,   
he and Lucrezia Noin had decided long ago, was a nice   
enough guy, but not a very good influence on Zechs.   
He had a particular obsession with Wild Turkey which   
none of them could understand- except Zechs, who for   
some reason seemed to like the stuff, too.  
  
"For once I don't think Otto's faulty taste in liquor   
is the problem here. You heard me right. We've all   
been fired."  
  
Zechs groaned. "What's the General smoking? They need   
us- never gonna stop the rebels without us,   
especially those five twits with the Gundams."  
  
"I couldn't agree more, but the General wasn't in the   
mood to listen to reason."  
  
"Is he ever?"  
  
Treize sighed. He was never going to get anywhere   
with Zechs when he was like this. "Is Lucrezia   
there?"  
  
"Sadly, no. She and the girls had their own outing   
last night, came by on their way home to scrape Otto   
off the floor and drive him home, and that's it."  
  
"Um. Alright. Here's what let's do. You get yourself   
into the shower, clean yourself up, and ditch the   
remains of last night's festivities. Follow so far?"   
At Zechs' nod, he went on. "I'm going to make the   
rounds here, see if anything interesting turns up- oh   
yes, and copy a few keys. I'll come pick you up, and   
we'll pay a visit to Lucrezia and Une."  
  
"Okay." Zechs paused. "How do you think they'll take   
the news?"  
  
"Badly. I suggest flowers and firearms might help   
soothe them."  
  
Zechs nodded. "Then what?"  
  
"I've no idea," Treize told him.  
  
Eddie the janitor was just finishing up that end of   
the hallway when Treize came out of his office.   
Treize, he noticed, looked a lot more unhappy than he   
had when he'd walked in.  
  
"Boss man leave you a lotta work, Mister Treize?"   
Eddie asked.  
  
Treize shook his head. "No. Left me a pink slip,   
actually, and more for my colleagues."  
  
"I'm- real sorry to hear that, Mister Treize."  
  
"Not as sorry as my lady love will be, I'm sure."  
  
Eddie thought about that for a second. "Oh. Uhoh."  
  
"Yes. Quite so."  
  
"You, uh, want me to not bother replacing that vase?"  
  
"That'd probably be best, Edward."  
  
The janitor started to hand back the credit chips   
Treize had given him, but the Specials' former   
commander shook his head. "Keep them, Edward. Buy the   
children something special."  
  
"Thanks, sir. That's mighty kind of you."  
  
Treize didn't answer, already heading towards the   
elevators, his head bent as if he had a heavy weight   
on his shoulders.   
  
"Damn," he said to the silent interior of the   
elevator. "Damn, damn, damn. This is not going to be   
one of my better days."  
  
Treize sighed, and checked his reflection in the   
elevator's mirrored panels. His hand reached up of   
its own accord to smooth back his hair. At least, he   
told himself, I still look good.  
  
* * *  
  
Lucrezia Noin peered out across her front lawn, one   
hand shielding her eyes, searching for the paper. At   
last she spotted it, lying in a soggy pile of   
newsprint at the end of the drive. Muttering   
irritably to herself, she went out to retrieve it.  
  
Noin snarled a curse at the paperboy quickly   
retreating on his bike. "You do this on purpose,   
don't you?" she yelled. "Little brat! See this?" One   
hand, gesturing with the paper, pointed at the large   
machine parked in the driveway. "Mobile suit, kid.   
Can you say 'Kentucky Fried Chicken'?"  
  
"You won't catch me, weakling!" yelled the paperboy,   
Wufei, over his shoulder. "Stupid woman," he muttered   
to himself as he rode off.  
  
Noin stared after him. "I swear that's the kid who   
trashed Victoria... Killed half my students, *and*   
wrecked my apartment... Yeah, you *better* run!" she   
yelled after him.  
  
She shook her fist at him before hiking back past the   
mobile suit, the '99 Romefeller-Ford Taurus model,   
top of the line, purple finish and black chrome. A   
scuffed-up bumper sticker on the suit's back read: We   
break for nobody.  
  
At the door, Sally Po relieved her of the still-  
dripping paper.  
  
"'Morning, Lucrezia," Sally said.  
  
"'Morning, Sal. Do me a favor, make a note- Borrow   
Tallgeese from Zechs, kill paperboy."  
  
"Sure." Sally produced a pencil from one of her   
pigtail-braids and a notepad from her pocket,   
muttering to herself as she scribbled. "Lucrezia-   
borrow Tallgeese..."  
  
As Sally finished her note, Lucrezia walked into the   
kitchen to check on Mr. Coffee. The second of her two   
housemates, Lady Une, stood gazing at the coffee pot,   
unblinking. Lucrezia grinned to herself and tapped   
Une on the shoulder.  
  
"What." Une said, without looking away from the   
coffee maker- or blinking.  
  
"Hi," said Lucrezia. "Good morning. How're you?"  
  
"Status: Still brewing," Une replied in a monotone.   
  
Lucrezia sighed as Sally appeared and tossed the   
paper into the microwave. "Should've known better   
than to try and talk to her before she has her   
coffee..."  
  
"I don't think she's even really hearing us," Sally   
said as she programmed the microwave. "Observe. Une?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Treize is doing a striptease on the front lawn."  
  
"Coffee," said Une. "Must have coffee..."  
  
Lucrezia laughed. "That was mean."  
  
Sally nodded. "You're right. Fair's fair, next time   
I'll say Zechs instead of Treize..."  
  
Noin shuddered. "Please. As drunk as he was last   
night, I *don't* think that's something I want to see   
him attempt any time in the near future."  
  
"Point," Sally admitted. "But still- it'd be good for   
comic relief if nothing else, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"Coffee!" exclaimed Une, leaping for the machine, mug   
already in hand. She poured her first cup and drank   
it in one long swallow. "Owwww....hot!"  
  
Sally, taking pity on her friend, poured her a second   
cup with a liberal dose of milk.  
  
"Mmm...better. Thanks."  
  
"No charge."  
  
Une took another sip from her mug. "What were you two   
talking about a minute ago?"  
  
"Men. Stripteases. Drinking. Zechs, and Treize, of   
course," Lucrezia told her.  
  
Une nodded. "Ahh. Recalling last night?"  
  
"Mum-hum. You know, if Zechs were just a little more   
like Treize, I think we'd be okay. Treize doesn't   
pull this crap, does he? Getting drunk, passing out   
at my feet- and managing to look either attractive or   
pathetically cute while he's at it?"  
  
"Uh, no," Une said, refilling her now-empty mug once   
again. "He drinks, but not much. Although the passing   
out thing could present interesting possibilities..."  
  
But Noin shook her head. "Not in the shape Zechs was   
in, it didn't. And defiantly not with Otto throwing   
up in the nearest corner."  
  
"Point taken," Une said. "Point defiantly taken." She   
paused for another long drink from her mug. "What're   
you gonna do about that, anyway?"  
  
"I'm considering dragging his ass into detox,"   
Lucrezia said as she fetched her own cup of coffee.   
If she didn't get some now, Une would drink the rest   
of this pot in a hurry. "That, and blasting Otto into   
little pieces."  
  
"After the paperboy?" Sally asked.  
  
"After the paperboy," Noin agreed.  
  
"More seriously, though," said Lady Une- who was now   
up for intelligent conversation, having inhaled most   
of a pot of coffee.   
  
"More seriously, I don't know, Une. Times are tough,   
you know? And God knows I don't mind a drink once in   
a while myself, after some days..."  
  
"None of us feel any differently," Sally put in. "But   
Lucrezia, let me ask you this- do you really, truly   
care about Zechs?"  
  
"Of course I do!" Noin snapped. "What the hell kind   
of question is that?"  
  
Sally held up her hands. "Easy, there... I know you   
do, that's not what I meant. What I *mean* is that   
maybe he needs help, you know? And maybe the people   
who care about him..."  
  
"You and Treize," Une said between gulps of caffeine.   
"You two should talk to him."  
  
"And Otto, too?" Lucrezia asked, more to relieve the   
tension than anything else.  
  
"Do you love Otto?" Sally asked, deadpan, at the same   
moment Une said: "Of course not Otto, Otto can get   
his own damned friends!"  
  
"And girlfriends," said Noin.  
  
"I'll drink to that," Une said.  
  
"I think you already are."  
  
"Sally?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I think the paper's on fire."  
  
"Ohmigod! Une! Why didn't you say something?" Sally   
dashed to the microwave to retrieve what remained of   
the paper.  
  
Une shrugged. "We were discussing important issues."  
  
"And the paper's not important? I've gotta read my   
horoscope..."  
  
"You sound like Dorothy," Une sighed. "I wonder- is   
today a good day to die?"  
  
"One way to find out," Noin said.  
  
"Now that was uncalled-for," Sally said.  
  
"Was it? I didn't think so." Une put on another pot   
of coffee.   
  
Noin sighed, and reached for the comm screen after   
looking up a number on the phone book cube. "Yeah,   
hi, this is the Noin, Po, and Une residence... we,   
um, didn't get a paper... No, I will not hold." She   
sighed. "Noin. Lucrezia Noin. N-O-I-N. Look, I have a   
mobile suit in my driveway, okay? All I want from you   
people is a lousy newspaper, one that isn't soggy or   
shredded or burnt... *Thank* you." She clicked off   
the screen. "They're sending us a new paper. Fifteen   
minutes, they said."  
  
"More like 24 hours," Sally muttered. "And the   
horoscope will be useless by then."  
  
"We'll black out the date, she won't know the   
difference," Une stage-whispered to Noin.  
  
"Good idea," Noin replied. Sally pointedly ignored   
them both.  
  
There was a furious pounding at the door. "Weaklings!   
I have your paper."  
  
"Coming!" Une called in her most innocent voice. She   
strolled to the door with a smile and Treize's   
hunting rifle, which he'd been kind enough to loan   
her.  
  
She opened the door just enough to see the paperboy.   
"Hello," Une said. "You're Wufei?"  
  
"That's right, weakling-"  
  
Une yanked the door open and smacked him in the head   
with the rifle. By the time he looked up again she   
was staring down the barrel at him. "Listen up,   
little man. This 'weaklings' crap is really starting   
to annoy me."  
  
"Me too!" called Noin from the kitchen.  
  
"And me three," Sally yelled. Then: "I cannot believe   
I actually said that."  
  
"As I was saying," Une smiled at Wufei over the   
rifle, "it's really getting annoying. I don't like to   
be annoyed, and my friends don't either. I realize   
you think you're stronger and better and tougher than   
us, and you're still quite proud of yourself for   
besting Noin in that fight, aren't you?"  
  
"She is only a weak woman, and I don't kill-"  
  
"We know," Une cut him off. "Which is all very well   
and good, of course, but I'd like to take this   
opportunity to point out that you'd probably be toast   
if it weren't for the fact that you're a semi-main   
character. Noin's weakness or lack thereof has   
nothing to do with it."  
  
"You are all weak, pathetic creatures-"  
  
Une sighed, and shot him in the foot.   
  
"Owwwwwwww!"  
  
"Every time you say the word 'weak' I am going to   
pull this trigger. Every time you insult me or my   
friends I am going to smack you upside the head.   
Every time you do both, I am going to smack you where   
the sun don't shine. Then we'll see how weak *you*   
are. Understand?"  
  
Wufei, wisely, nodded silently.  
  
"Okay. Great." Une reached out and took the newspaper   
from him. "Oh yeah, one more thing? Try not to thrash   
tomorrow's paper, okay? Sally really needs her   
horoscopes, and I've gotta count the number of OZ   
folks in the obits for Treize, and..."  
  
"Sally?" asked Wufei. "Sally's here?"  
  
"That's right, 'weakling'," said Sally, appearing   
behind Une.   
  
"Uh...hi Sally. Sorry about all that weakling stuff,"   
Wufei said, with a nervous glance at Une. "I, uh,   
think I should be going now... Ladies." He bowed,   
turned, and hobbled away, running straight into the   
mobile suit. "Owww! Injustice! I am *weak*!" Wufei   
exclaimed- at which point Une took aim again, and   
shot him in the rear.  
  
Une smiled, blew away a puff of smoke from the rifle,   
and handed the paper to Sally. "Yours, I believe?"  
  
"Ours," said Sally as they went back inside. "Nice   
shot, by the way."  
  
"Thank you. I've been practicing."  
  
"With Treize, no doubt," Noin said, pouring three   
mugs from a new pot of coffee.  
  
"And just what are you implying?" Une asked.  
  
"Not a darn thing," Noin said with a grin.  
  
"Because everybody *knows*," Sally said as she opened   
the paper to the horoscopes. "Mmm...let's see.   
Lucrezia: Loved ones' actions may frustrate you. Try   
to remember you care about them, and stay focused on   
your goals. Be understanding, but not too   
sympathetic."  
  
"Huh," said Noin. "Not bad, I guess."  
  
"Une: Someone special will bring you flowers. Be   
polite, but don't lead them on. There may be-" Sally   
grinned over her paper "-a romantic evening in your   
future."  
  
"Hehe," said Noin.  
  
"Now yours," Une said to Sally.  
  
"Me: Your friends are going through some tough times.   
Stick with them, but don't let them push you around.   
Just because things could be better doesn't mean you   
should suffer for it." She paused. "Interesting."  
  
"What garbage," said Une. "Really. I can't believe   
you buy into this stuff."  
  
"Well, yours is probably accurate," Sally pointed   
out.  
  
"I don't see how. With the two of you hanging around   
here, and Zechs very likely to pass out at Treize's   
place?"  
  
"We happen to *live* here," Noin said. "But Zechs,   
once passed out, won't notice much, guaranteed."  
  
"And that, my dears, is food for thought," Une said,   
raising her mug. "Cheers."  
  
* * *  
  
Zechs Merquise stumbled to his closet, retrieving the   
first garment he found, which happened to be his OZ   
uniform. Draping the uniform over his arm, he made   
his way towards the bathroom, in the process tripping   
over several mostly-empty bottles of Wild Turkey,   
among other things.  
  
"Ugh. What is that *smell*?* Zechs asked, approaching   
the corner where Otto had thrown up the previous   
night. "Yuck." He sighed. "Wonder where Otto is,   
anyway..." Deciding to clean up the mess after his   
shower, Zechs continued on to the bathroom. He had a   
vague memory of Lucrezia being there last night- and   
of briefly passing out at her feet. Had she and her   
friends taken Otto home? He scratched his head,   
trying to remember. "I think...yeah. I sorta remember   
Lucrezia dragging Otto down the stairs... Might as   
well've tossed him over the railing, for as gentle as   
she was about it. Not that Otto noticed, 'course..."  
  
Still muttering to himself, Zechs hung up the   
uniform, turned on the water, and stepped into the   
shower. "Ahhhh! Cold!" he exclaimed, leaping back out   
again. As he stood there dripping on the floor, he   
realized he'd forgotten to take off his clothes.   
"Oops."  
  
After peeling off his soggy garments, Zechs returned   
to the shower, singing as he fished the soap out of   
its dish. "The hills are alive with the sound of   
muuuuuusic...."  
  
Sometime later, as he blow-dried his hair, Zechs met   
his bleary-eyed expression in the steamy bathroom   
mirror. He sighed. "This," he said to himself, "does   
not look good." Then his eyes lit up. "Of course! My   
mask! I'll put the mask on, and no one will be able   
to see..." Pleased with himself for this great leap   
of deductive reasoning, he finished drying his hair   
and donned his uniform.  
  
The first thing he did, after exiting the bathroom,   
was take a mop to Otto's corner. "That is the *last*   
time that guy's coming over here after work," Zechs   
vowed as he dunked the mop in a bucket of soapy water   
for what had to be the tenth time. Of course, he had   
made this particular vow numerous times, but he was   
sure he meant it now. Otto was a good guy and all,   
but after a while, Zechs' landlord was going to have   
a real problem with Otto's habitual trashing of   
Zechs' apartment. And Otto didn't have to pay the   
rent and deal with that guy- Zechs *did*.  
  
With the corner clean- or at least as clean as it had   
been before Otto chose that spot to revisit his   
evening meal, Zechs turned his attention to the   
numerous bottles and food remnants scattered hither   
and yon. There were, he noticed, many more bottles   
than there were pizza crusts and potato chip bags.   
Maybe that was why he felt like there were a dozen   
mobile suits fighting it out inside his skull? Too   
much to drink, not enough to eat?  
  
Maybe. Zechs stooped to retrieve a bottle of Wild   
Turkey, noting with some pleasure that there was   
still a bit of it left. He grinned, swirled the   
liquid in the bottle, and started to tip his head   
back to drink it. Then he looked at the bottle again,   
turned to face his refection in the mirror hanging   
beside the door, and shook his head. "Screw it,"   
Zechs said, and pitched the bottle, contents and all,   
into his trash can.  
  
He'd just picked up the last of the bottles and was   
starting on the carnage only the charitable would   
call 'dinner', when the doorbell rang. Zechs clutched   
his aching head before moving to the door. He opened   
it slowly, blinking against the harsh glare of the   
sunlight.  
  
"Hiya, Treize," Zechs said, stepping back to let his   
friend into the apartment. Treize's aristocratic nose   
turned up at the apartment's smell, and he winced   
slightly.  
  
"Good God, what *is* that smell?"  
  
Zechs sighed. "Part of it's probably from when Otto   
threw up-"  
  
Treize held up a hand. "Nevermind. Say no more,   
please." He paused. "Are you alright? You don't look   
so good."  
  
"Bad hangover," Zechs told him. He sighed, looking   
around the apartment. "Lucrezia is going to kill me."  
  
"Fortunately or unfortunately, she'll have other   
things to worry about soon enough," Treize said.  
  
"What? Oh, right. That whole 'everybody's fired'   
thing. You weren't kidding me about that, were you?"  
  
"Have you ever known me to have such a terrible sense   
of humor?" Treize asked. His hung-over friend simply   
looked at him, and he sighed. "No. I wasn't kidding.   
Shall we go?"  
  
Zechs nodded. "Yeah. I think I've done about all I   
can with this mess for now." He grabbed his mask from   
its peg by the door and put it on. "How do I look?"  
  
"More or less normal. You- might want to consider   
combing you hair, though..." Treize produced a comb   
from his back pocket. "Here, I just happen to have   
this with me."  
  
"Thanks," Zechs said, taking the comb to his rather   
tangled hair.  
  
When Treize pronounced his appearance "good enough",   
the two exited the apartment and went down the steps   
to where Treize's Corvette convertible was illegally   
parked at the curb.  
  
"First stop," said Treize, "the best florists' shop   
in town. Hop in, pal."  
  
Zechs climbed into the passenger seat, and Treize   
started the car, taking the corners way too fast as   
he drove them away from the apartment building.  
  
"Do you really think the flowers will help that   
much?" Zechs asked over the sound of the engine.  
  
"They certainly can't hurt, and, if presented right,   
may *help* to avoid anything...too nasty."  
  
"If Une's had enough coffee," Zechs pointed out.  
  
"Oh, God." Treize closed his eyes briefly, only   
opening them when he recalled that he was driving at   
high speed upon a city street, and that looking where   
he was going might be a good idea. "Please let her   
have had her coffee, please..."  
  
The Corvette screeched to a stop outside Dawson's   
Flouriest Shop, and the two men exited the vehicle   
and headed into the store. A bell hanging upon the   
door announced their arrival, and the young man   
behind the counter- younger than Zechs or Treize -  
looked up at their arrival.  
  
"Mister Treize!" exclaimed the boy. "Good morning,   
sir, how are you?"  
  
"Terrible," said Treize. "Just terrible. This-" he   
put an arm around Zechs' shoulders, and his friend   
shot him an odd look "-is my good friend Zechs   
Merquise. We need at least a dozen red roses each-   
and an ample dose of prayer wouldn't hurt, either."  
  
"Ouch," the boy said. "You must have some serious   
apologizing to do. What happened?"  
  
"Not apologizing, exactly," Zechs told him. "Just   
some really bad news which the ladies aren't going to   
like one bit."  
  
The boy nodded. "Hmm. Okay. Mister Treize, we've only   
got two dozen of those roses left- the English ones   
you like -and really Mr. Dawson says I'm not supposed   
to sell all of them, but you're our best customer,   
and..."  
  
"Please," said Treize. "My girlfriend has a gun;   
*his* girlfriend has a Mobile Suit in her driveway.   
I'm begging you, please."  
  
The boy nodded vigorously. "Of course. I was going to   
say that seeing as how you're our best customer, and   
I feel really sorry for you and your friend, I'm   
going to let you have them."  
  
"Thank you," said Treize. "What's your name, son?"  
  
"Danny, sir."  
  
"Well, Danny, if you're ever in need of work-" Treize   
shook his head. "Damn. I can't do that anymore, can   
I? Well. If you need a letter of recommendation...   
call me."  
  
"Thanks, sir," Danny said. He turned to retrieve the   
roses, and brought them back along with a roll of   
white paper. "You want these long-stemmed, I'm   
guessing?"  
  
"We need all the help we can get," Zechs said.   
  
Danny nodded. "Thought so." With that he arranged the   
roses in their paper wrappings, and handed each of   
the men their dozen. Then he quoted the price.   
  
Treize winced, but nodded, and reached for his   
wallet. Zechs started to go for his, but Treize shook   
his head. "Let me get this one, old friend. I'm-   
slightly less broke at the moment."  
  
"I owe you one," said Zechs.  
  
"You always owe me," was Treize's good-natured reply   
as he handed the credit chips to Danny. "Have   
yourself a good day, kid."  
  
"Thanks, sir. And- good luck."  
  
"Next stop, The Armory," Treize said once they were   
back in the car.  
  
Zechs nodded. "I am beginning to doubt this will do   
any good... with my luck I am right now on my way to   
buy the weapon Lucrezia is going to kill me with."  
  
"Now, now," Treize said, "don't talk like that. We   
must assume that this plan will work. You've charmed   
her for years, old friend, you can do it again, one   
more time."  
  
"You're not worried about Lady Une?" Zechs asked.  
  
"Um. Not really, no. By the time we get there, she   
should have enough caffeine in her system to be   
alright...more or less." Treize sighed. "I hope."  
  
"Unless she's having one of those Colonel Une the   
Destroyer days..."  
  
"Zechs?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You can shut up now. In fact, please do."  
  
The Corvette laid a good two meters of rubber as it   
pulled into the Armory parking lot. Treize swore   
under his breath. And swore again when he and Zechs   
met up with Dorothy Catalonia on her way out of the   
shop.  
  
"Hello," Dorothy said, adjusting the large bundle of   
rifles and knives she held in her arms. "Cousin   
Treize, Mister Zechs..." She batted her eyelashes at   
Zechs, but what really caught his attention was her   
seemingly endless eyebrows.  
  
"Hello, Dorothy," Treize sighed. "Have you bought out   
the store?"  
  
"No!" Dorothy laughed. "If I did that, I couldn't   
come back for more ammunition, now could I? I really   
need to find a war to fight in soon, it's just   
killing me waiting." She laughed again. "Get it-   
killing?"  
  
Behind the mask, Zechs rolled his eyes.  
  
Treize sighed again. "Dorothy-" He shook his head.   
"Nevermind, forget it. Have you spoken to any of your   
colonial friends lately?"  
  
"My- what? You must be joking. Anyway, they're not   
*my* friends, they're Miss Relena's."  
  
"I'll take that as a 'no'. If you do see them... give   
them my regards?"  
  
Dorothy shrugged, her eyebrows jumping across her   
forehead. "Sure, sure. See ya, cuz."  
  
"Cuz?" Zechs asked after Dorothy had vanished.  
  
Treize shrugged. "We're related somehow or other, but   
I couldn't tell you how, and neither, apparently,   
could she."  
  
"What was that about her 'colonial' friends- the   
Gundam pilots?"  
  
Treize nodded. "Yes. Them. I was just thinking-   
they'll have a very easy time of it in the near   
future, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"Damn those fools!" Zechs exclaimed.   
  
Treize nodded again. "My sentiments exactly." He   
pulled open the door. "Shall we?"  
  
Inside the shop were racks filled with guns, knives,   
swords, all manner of weaponry. Treize nodded a   
greeting to the salesman behind the counter before   
turning his attentions to the merchandise.  
  
"Good morning, Mister Treize," said the salesman.  
  
"Do you know *everyone* in this town?" Zechs asked.  
  
Treize smiled. "Only those who trade in things that   
interest me, my friend."  
  
"Mm. Flowers and firearms."  
  
"Among other things." Treize sighed along the barrel   
of the rifle he held, but shook his head and put it   
back. "No, no..." He gestured to the salesman. "I   
need something suitable for a lady, my good man...   
elegant, unique..."  
  
The salesman nodded. "What'd you have in mind? Blade   
of some type? Rifle? Shotgun? Semi-automatic?"  
  
Treize shook his head. "Rapier, I think."  
  
"I have just the thing," said the man. From behind   
the counter he produced a beautiful work of steel   
craft- a lightweight, elegant, but deadly weapon.   
Treize took it in his hands, testing its weight, and   
nodded slowly.  
  
"It's perfect," he said. "Don't you think, Zechs?"  
  
Zechs examined the sword and nodded his approval. "A   
Mobile Suit is really more my sort of weapon, but I   
do think she'll like it."  
  
"The lady- she is skilled in the use of things like   
this, yes?" the salesman asked.  
  
"Yes," Treize replied. "I'll take it. Next- a   
handgun. She lost hers," he explained to Zechs.   
"Would you believe that dreadful cousin of mine   
swiped it? Apparently her grandfather doesn't like   
her playing with live ammunition..."  
  
"Can't imagine why," said Zechs, deadpan.  
  
"I favor the .22, myself," the salesman said. "Small   
grip, easily concealed in, say, a lady's handbag..."   
He smiled, and offered the weapon to Treize, who   
shifted the rapier to his other hand in order to take   
it.  
  
"Mmm. Yes. That'll do nicely. I'll take both of   
those, and- Zechs, old friend? Any ideas for   
Lucrezia?"  
  
"I'm looking," said Zechs. "I know she does admire   
that hunting rifle of yours... You know the one?"  
  
Treize nodded. "Yes. Perhaps if she has one of her   
own, she can share it with her friends, and I'll get   
mine back. Another of those antiques you sold me, my   
good man, if you please... yes, the Winchester."  
  
The salesman nodded, eyes gleaming with thoughts of   
the commission he was going to earn today. "Anything   
else?"  
  
"Better get her something with a cutting edge, if you   
follow me," said Treize. "Otherwise she may   
be...jealous."  
  
Zechs, shuddering at the thought of a jealous   
Lucrezia Noin, nodded his agreement. "Hmm... Fencing   
foil, maybe?" He shook his head. "No... too fragile."  
  
"A child's toy," was Treize's comment. "Another   
rapier, I think..."  
  
The salesman, rubbing his hands together with glee,   
immediately fetched another sword he thought would   
do. "Sir?" he said to Zechs, handing it to him. Zechs   
examined it briefly, shrugged, and looked to Treize,   
who nodded.  
  
"Well. If she doesn't like it, I suppose she could   
always kill me with it," Zechs said. He turned to his   
friend again. "But, say, Treize...can we afford this   
stuff?"  
  
"Can we afford *not* to?" Treize replied. "Besides,   
I'll cover it. It pays to have rich friends, don't   
you think?"  
  
"Oh yes. I defiantly think."   
  
"Will that be all, gentlemen?" the salesman asked.  
  
"I think so, yes," Treize told him. "By the way- that   
young lady who just left."  
  
"Ahh. Miss Catalonia. One of my best customers. Such   
strange eyebrows, though..."  
  
He tallied up their purchases, and gave Treize the   
total. Treize glared at him. "Highway robbery! This,   
is highway robbery! You don't seriously expect...?!?"  
  
"It's the times, sir," said the salesman, sounding   
almost regretful about it. "Weapons don't come cheap-   
military needs 'em, I guess. And a man's gotta eat,   
you know?"  
  
"Yes. I do know." Treize fetched his checkbook with a   
sigh. "Check okay?"  
  
"Fine. Can I see some ID?"  
  
"As if you don't know who I am," Treize muttered, but   
forked over his ID as well.  
  
The salesman scrutinized it. "Doesn't look much like   
you..."  
  
Zechs peered over his shoulder. "He's right, you   
know. Looks like you about- oh, I don't know, a   
decade or so ago, though..."  
  
"I looked better then," Treize muttered. They both   
stared at him, and he ran his fingers through his   
hair. "Well, I did."  
  
"Uh, sure, whatever... Can we go now?"  
  
* * *  
  
"Do we need to do anything today?" Noin asked her   
housemates.  
  
"Not really, no," said Sally. "Although I'm starting   
to feel a little sorry for Otto, who's probably still   
passed out exactly where we dumped him in his living   
room last night."  
  
"Fine," said Une. "*You* go scrape him off the floor,   
then. Lucrezia and I did it last night, and believe   
you me, it was not a pretty sight."  
  
"He's kind of cute, you know?" asked Sally.  
  
"Maybe he could be- sober. But have you seen Otto   
sober any time in the past three years?" Noin   
replied.  
  
"Otto," said Une, "no longer knows the meaning of   
'sober'. He thinks beer is one of the major food   
groups."  
  
"Yeah, kind of like you and your coffee," Sally said.  
  
"Your problem, Sal," Lucrezia told her, "is that you   
don't really *like* Otto, but you feel sorry for him,   
because he's a pathetically cute and helpless sort of   
drunk."  
  
"Except when he throws things, or throws up on   
things," Une said.  
  
Noin nodded. "Yeah. Except for that."  
  
"I'm a doctor," Sally reminded them. "I fix things,   
heal people."  
  
"I wonder if we can fix Otto?" Noin thought aloud.   
"It'd solve so many problems..."  
  
"Sally, apparently, wants to try," Une said.  
  
"Of course she does. Can't you talk to Treize or   
something, maybe get Otto transferred someplace else,   
where he'll cause a little less trouble? It'd be a   
lot better for OZ if we had a dried-out Zechs instead   
of the either drunk or badly hung-over model."  
  
"What she really *means*," Sally stage-whispered to   
Une, "is that a dried-out Zechs would be better for   
*her*, personally."  
  
"I know exactly what she means. And, Lucrezia, I find   
it very insulting that you'd ask me to use my   
influence with Treize that way. That is, assuming I   
have any..." Une seemed to suddenly transform into   
Une Without Self-Confidence- again. Noin tried not to   
sigh, having seen this before, rather often.  
  
"Of course you do, Une!" Noin told her quickly. "That   
man adores you."  
  
"And basically every other female he sees," Une   
muttered.  
  
"It's politics, I guess- sort of. He has to play to   
the crowd, charm all those rich old ladies pulling   
the strings on the Federation's Board of Directors."   
Nevermind that most of them were young, not old.   
Sally thought about pointing that out, then decided   
against it.   
  
"And," Noin continued, "I mean, it's *Treize*. He   
likes the attention, but he doesn't like *them*."  
  
"You sure about that, Lucrezia?"  
  
"Positive. I heard him talking to Zechs about it   
once. He said he liked the way they looked at him,   
but at the same time he didn't, because they didn't   
understand him at all. He called them the rich   
children of rich fools...that sort of thing. He   
spotted me then and stopped talking, but then he   
said, like I wasn't there even though he knew I was,   
that you were the only woman he ever wanted to look   
at him that way, and that it was going to be really   
hard to resist the urge to smack the next silly   
little flufball that did it." Noin shrugged. "Make of   
that what you will, but..."  
  
Une wiped a tear out of her eye. "He- really said   
that?" She sniffed, and reached for a Kleenex.   
"Shit...I'm fogging up my glasses." She took them   
off.  
  
"It's okay, we'll clean them..." On impulse Noin gave   
her friend a hug. She'd never done that before- Une   
really didn't seem like the sort of person you   
hugged. But she did look sort of helpless without the   
glasses...   
  
Sally took the glasses and cleaned them, then gave   
them to Lucrezia, who gave them back to Une.  
  
Une sniffed and blew her nose. "Thanks..." Sniff.   
"...you guys." She put her glasses back on, and   
suddenly seemed like a different person. "Well.   
That's very nice to know. I'm glad you told me that,   
Lucrezia. Thank you."  
  
"Any time," Noin said. How'd she do that? she   
wondered.   
  
"Speaking of Treize..." Sally said with a grin. "You   
were out kinda late last night, weren't you?"  
  
"Helping Lucrezia drag Otto out of Zechs' apartment,   
yes."  
  
"Oh." Sally sighed, having gone fishing for gossip   
and come up empty. "Well... about those birds,   
then..."  
  
"Ugh. You're sick, Sally." Une went back to her   
crossword puzzle. "What's a six-letter word for   
infatuation?"  
  
"Treize," Noin and Sally said together. They grinned   
at each other.  
  
"Ugh! You two..." But Une, too, was smiling, amused.   
"He is quite the catch, isn't he?"  
  
"On second thought, I'm not sure I want to hear   
this," Sally said.  
  
"Oh, but I do want to tell you," Une said seriously.   
"Really..."  
  
"Help!" exclaimed Sally.  
  
"Careful what you wish for," Noin said.  
  
From somewhere up the street there came the sound of   
screeching tires, and a car horn or two blaring.  
  
"Damned kids," Noin muttered.   
  
But the screeching drew closer to their home, and all   
three women looked out the living room window   
curiously as the cherry-red convertible skidded to a   
stop at their curb. Treize and Zechs got out of the   
car and started up the walk.  
  
"Speak of the devil, and he appears," Noin said,   
trying to make her voice sound mysterious and spooky.  
  
"Mmmm... Treize," said Une.  
  
"Is it just me, or does that sound remarkably like   
her early-morning 'Mmm...coffee' ritual?" Sally   
asked.  
  
Une glared at her and growled.   
  
Noin raised her hands. "Nope, Sal, just you."  
  
The doorbell rang, and Une dashed to answer it.  
  
"Good morning," Treize said with a bright smile. "You   
look lovely."  
  
"'sokay, Treize," Noin said, appearing in the doorway   
behind Une. "She's had her coffee."  
  
"Thank God," said Treize, sweeping his lady-love up   
into a hug. Une, in her Serious Soldier (tm) role,   
tried not to smile.  
  
Meanwhile, Noin greeted Zechs. "You clean up pretty   
good, Zechs, considering." She looked at the various   
things he carried. "What's this? Flowers? Pretty.   
Treize is as good of an influence as Otto is a bad   
one, I guess... They *are* for me, yes?"  
  
Zechs nodded. "Um...yeah. Treize's idea. Here." He   
thrust the roses into her hands.  
  
"For crying out loud," Sally called. "Invite them in   
and close the door. What will the neighbors think?"  
  
"That at least two members of your household have   
companions worthy of their strength and beauty,"   
Treize said as he escorted Une into the house. Noin   
and Zechs followed.  
  
Une shook her head, having given up her attempts at   
not looking amused. "Trust you, Treize, to compliment   
yourself along with everyone else."  
  
"Does that mean you think I'm undeserving, milady?"  
  
"Hardly," Une said. "Oh- roses. How thoughtful!"  
  
"How predictable," said Sally.  
  
Une stuck out her tongue at her.  
  
The other four looked at her in silent amazement.  
  
Did I just see that? wondered Noin.  
  
I have *really* got to quit drinking, thought Zechs.  
  
I've got to admit, Treize thought, I didn't see that   
one coming.  
  
"Should probably get those flowers into some water,"   
Sally said, and she busied herself doing that. "Say,   
guys, what's the rest of that junk you're carrying?"  
  
"Oh, just a few things we picked up on our way over,"   
Zechs said lightly.  
  
"Presents?" asked Noin. "Is it someone's birthday?   
Anniversary?"  
  
"Nope," said Zechs.  
  
Noin looked relieved. "Good. I didn't forget   
anything."  
  
"What's the occasion?" Une asked.  
  
"Well... why don't we just show you what we've   
brought, and then we'll explain..." Treize set his   
various packages on the table. He and Zechs exchanged   
a look, which each of the women tried and failed to   
read.  
  
Treize and Zechs each handed Une and Noin,   
respectively, a long narrow box.  
  
"Go on, open the damn things already," said Sally.  
  
Noin and Une shrugged, and did so simultaneously.   
There were two likewise simultaneous gasps.  
  
"Ooooh...sharp objects!" exclaimed Une. "Thank you!"   
She threw her arms around Treize in an embrace that   
left him gasping for breath.  
  
"You're-" He gasped "-welcome."  
  
"Wow," said Noin, looking from the box, to Zechs, to   
the box again. "I adore you, do you know that?"  
  
Noin and Une removed their rapiers from their boxes   
and immediately began dueling.  
  
"En garde!" Une exclaimed.  
  
Zechs and Treize traded looks of alarm. Sally   
laughed.   
  
"Freeze, foul creature, or I'll run you through!"   
Noin said to Une, waving the rapier at her friend.  
  
"Never! I shall never surrender, never!"  
  
Noin grinned. "Une?"  
  
"What."  
  
"Look, behind you- Treize, striptease."  
  
Une immediately turned her head. All she saw, of   
course, was a beet-red Treize, an openmouthed Sally,   
and a Zechs shaking from laughter.  
  
As soon as Une's head turned, Noin tapped her on the   
shoulder with her rapier. "Gotcha."  
  
"Touché," Une muttered. "Well done. Well done."  
  
"Er. Yes," said Treize, who was still trying to   
recover.  
  
"Maybe you should really try that," said Sally. "Her   
reaction was interesting enough to indicate-"  
  
"Sally!" Une and Treize exclaimed together.  
  
Sally shrugged, looking to Noin and Zechs. "What'd I   
tell ya? They're a match made in heaven. Now let's   
put those away before we put someone's eye out with   
them, okay?"  
  
Noin and Une replaced the rapiers in their boxes, and   
folded their hands on the table in front of them,   
wearing identical expressions.  
  
"Well," said Une. "That was fun. What's next, boys?"  
  
"Firearms," said Zechs.  
  
Treize kicked him. "You weren't supposed to *tell*   
them!"   
  
"Ow!" Zechs handed another long box to Une, and a   
smaller one to Noin. "No, wait...sorry. Other way   
'round. Trade."  
  
"Okay," said Noin, and they traded. She opened her   
box. "Alright! Shotgun!"  
  
"Rifle, actually," Treize said. "We thought, perhaps   
if you had one of your own, I might have mine back."  
  
"Sure thing. Thanks." Noin leaned across the table   
and kissed Treize's cheek.  
  
"Lucrezia!" Une clawed at Noin with her fingernails.   
"How could you?"  
  
Noin blushed. "Would you believe...I made a mistake?"  
  
"Damn right you did," Une muttered. Then she laughed.  
  
Noin turned to Zechs. "Thank you, Zechs." She leaned   
across the table again, this time in the right   
direction, and kissed him full on the lips.  
  
Immediately Sally glanced at her watch, and began   
muttering to herself. "One one thousand, two one   
thousand, three one thousand..."  
  
"Open yours," Treize said to Une. She did so,   
exclaiming with glee.  
  
"My gun! You got it back from that slu- sweet darling   
little relation of yours!"  
  
Treize shook his head. "Actually I didn't, but..." He   
reached out, grabbed her hands, and drew her to him.   
"My lady approves?"  
  
"Mmm...yes."  
  
"...one thousand, thirty-five one thousand..." Sally   
sighed as Treize and Une began making out. "Damnit, I   
can't time all of you at once..."  
  
"What?" Noin asked.  
  
"My God. They came up for air," muttered Sally.  
  
"Did she say something?" Noin asked.  
  
"I didn't hear anything," was Zechs' reply.  
  
Treize drew away from Une with a reluctant sigh.   
"Listen, my dears...I'm afraid we have a bit of bad   
news. We thought these gifts might soften the blow a   
bit."  
  
Une gazed up at him. "What is it, Treize?"  
  
"OZ is...cutting funding to the Specials," Treize   
replied. "And they're also canning a lot of people-   
to save money, of course."  
  
"Treize found a pink slip on his desk this morning,"   
Zechs took up their tale of woe. "He called General   
Septic- I mean Septum. It's official, as of this   
morning we, the Specials, are all unemployed."  
  
"I hope you're kidding," Noin said.  
  
"Believe me, that's exactly what I said to Treize.   
But he wasn't, and I'm not either. I'm sorry,   
Lucrezia. Really."  
  
"Of all the ludicrous things," said Une. "They *need*   
us, don't they understand that?"  
  
"They don't care," Treize said. "I know that sounds   
stupid, and I know it *is* stupid, but they don't   
care."  
  
"I'm almost afraid to ask this," Sally said, "but   
what about me? Am I fired, too?"  
  
"Probably not, Treize told her. "However delusional   
they are by now, it can't have escaped their notice   
that there *is* still a war on, and they're going to   
need doctors to patch their soldiers back up- the   
ones that live, of course. Probably now more than   
ever they'll need you and yours."  
  
"Right. What does this leave them with to throw at   
the Gundams? Merchant marines?" Sally shuddered.  
  
"More or less," Zechs said.  
  
"I have a very bad feeling about this," Noin said.   
"But at least no more of my students will die for   
their worthless 'causes'!"  
  
"That's the spirit," Zechs told her.  
  
"Bite me."  
  
"I think maybe somebody needs a nap," Sally put in.  
  
"Shut up. Shut up, *please*," Une said.  
  
Sally looked pleadingly at the two men, who simply   
held up their hands.  
  
"Hey, I may be unemployed, but I'm not crazy yet,"   
Zechs said.  
  
And: "I believe you're on your own, Doctor," said   
Treize.  
  
"Oh, thanks. My heroes. Knights in shining armor to   
the rescue, and all that."  
  
"Get your own 'knight'," Une said. "These two are   
spoken for."  
  
"Yeah," Lucrezia spoke up.  
  
"So," said Sally. "You guys are unemployed, and my   
workload's going to double in the next week. Joy to   
the world."  
  
"This might be more amusing if it were happening to   
other people, though, wouldn't you agree?" Zechs   
asked. Nods all around the table. "But since it is,   
and it did- well. We have skills, don't we?"  
  
"Sure we do," said Noin. "We can all pilot, Une can   
shoot to kill at something like a hundred yards or   
more, I can teach- military history, maybe?"  
  
"Your least favorite subject," Zechs put in.  
  
"Yeah. Treize could teach- fencing, maybe?"  
  
"Oh yes. My life's ambition- to be surrounded daily   
by the children of parents even richer and more   
arrogant than my own. A class full of Dorothys, too,   
I should think." Treize shook his head. "I think I'd   
rather starve."  
  
"You just might, at the rate things are going," Noin   
said. "Maybe the zoo could use someone to train their   
birds? And, let me see... Zechs. Oh, I've got it-   
Wild Turkey commercials."  
  
"Co-starring Otto," Sally said, which was about the   
time most everyone lost it, collapsing into fits of   
laughter.  
  
Once they regained their composure, though, the   
seriousness of their situation descend upon them. A   
collective sigh rose from the table.  
  
"I need a drink," Zechs muttered.  
  
Noin smacked him, bruising her hand on his mask in   
the process. "Ow. Idiot- you need a job, not a   
drink."  
  
Zechs pouted beneath his mask. "She hit me."  
  
"We noticed," Treize told him.  
  
"Hey- I thought you were supposed to be my friend."  
  
"I *am* your friend. But I agree with Lucrezia. You   
*do* need a job, more than you need a drink."  
  
"Oh, fine. Have it your way then." Zechs sighed   
tragically. "You wouldn't take Une's coffee away,   
would you?"  
  
"No," Noin said. "But there's a difference."  
  
"What difference?"  
  
Noin shook her head in disbelief. "Darling... we're   
not suicidal."  
  
"And an Une without her coffee is one which none of   
us are in any hurry to meet up with," Treize said.   
"No offence, of course, my dear."  
  
"None taken," Une said. She glanced around the table.   
"Now that we've all become unemployed, some things   
are going to have to change." Nods all around. "First   
thing- Liquor is expensive, Zechs. So's detox. None   
of us can afford to pay for either, not if we plan to   
be eating in another two months." Nods again, albeit   
a reluctant one in Zechs' case. "So. First order of   
business is: Zechs is going to stop drinking, and   
we're all going to help him. Clear?"  
  
"Crystal," Noin said. "Next- we need to find jobs,   
sooner the better. In the meantime, we swallow our   
pride and hit the unemployment lines."  
  
"Must we?" Treize asked with a sigh.  
  
"Maybe we won't see *you* there right away," Noin   
said, "but I wouldn't be calling any of us when the   
fortune dries up."  
  
"I see your point."  
  
"Thought you might."  
  
* * *  
  
"Zechs, old chum, can I borrow your mask?" Treize   
asked the next day as the four of them approached a   
building whose sign read "Unemployment Office". "I   
don't think I can take the shame and humiliation of   
all this."  
  
"Hell no," Zechs said. "Why do you think *I'm*   
wearing it?"  
  
Lady Une glanced to her left and shuddered. In the   
reflective surface of one of the buildings they   
passed, she could see their reflections clearly- and   
what she saw, she didn't much like. "Hold up, you   
guys."  
  
Obligingly, they stopped- none of them being in any   
hurry to arrive at Unemployment. At Une's gesture   
they turned to face the building full on.  
  
"Oooh...shiny," said Treize. Noin, who was closest to   
him, smacked him.  
  
"Hey," said Une, "that's my job."  
  
"Sorry; couldn't wait on you."  
  
Une shrugged. "Okay. Now, guys... look at yourselves   
here. We have a problem."  
  
"Aside from the obvious?" Treize asked.  
  
"If you don't shut up, I'm going to let Lucrezia   
smack you again."  
  
"Okay," Treize said meekly, immediately before   
shutting up.  
  
"*Thank* you," Une said. "Now. Look at yourselves,   
people! What do we look like to you?"  
  
"Ourselves?" Zechs asked.  
  
Une nodded. "Bingo. We don't look like anything   
*except* Lady Une, Treize Khushrenada, Zechs   
Merquise, and Lucrezia Noin, ex-OZ Specials. And it's   
not just the uniforms either, guys...although   
ditching them would probably be a good idea."  
  
The others were nodding. "Um...yeah," Noin said. "She   
does have a point, gang. So- U-turn?"  
  
"I think we'd better," said Zechs, and they headed   
back the way they'd come.  
  
* * *  
  
"That was quick," said Sally when her four friends   
walked back through the door of the house.  
  
"Not really," Zechs said. "We decided we looked just   
a little too recognizable."  
  
"*Une* decided that," Treize corrected. "The rest of   
us somehow failed to notice."  
  
Sally looked the quartet over, and nodded. "Yeah.   
Let's see what we can do with you, huh?"  
  
While Sally was thinking, Noin was giving everyone   
directions. "Une, you know the drill..."  
  
Une, who had already tossed off her glasses, and was   
working on putting her hair down, nodded. "Yep.   
Treize, want to give me a hand with this damned   
ribbon?"  
  
"No," said Treize, who was studying his reflection in   
the mirror.  
  
Sally kicked him. "Ow! Okay, okay. Yes, of course,   
I'd love to help you."  
  
"Great," said Noin cheerfully. "Soon as you finish   
that, you and Zechs are going for a little drive."  
  
"We are?" asked Zechs.  
  
"You are. You're going to your place and his, to pick   
up some civilian clothing." Noin looked the two of   
them over, taking her time about 'examining' Zechs.   
"Might I suggest something nicer... slacks and nice   
shirts, maybe a jacket? No ties- we don't want you to   
look like Mormon missionaries- just respectable,   
*normal* men."  
  
"Are they normal?" asked Une. "Ow- Treize pulled my   
hair!"  
  
"Not intentionally, he didn't," Treize said quickly.   
"A fine idea, Lucrezia. And no, my dear Lady, we are   
not *normal*."  
  
Sally looked over at him, trying not to laugh.   
"Treize- does the word 'duh' mean anything to you?"  
  
"No," Treize said, deadpan. "Should it?" Then, to   
Une: "There we are, my dear."  
  
"Thanks," said Une. "Now go on, get out of here."  
  
"Yes, I think it's time we were leaving," Treize said   
to Zechs. "There are things about this strange female   
ritual of 'getting ready' that no male can see and   
live to tell of. Let's be off, then."  
  
"Yes, let's," said Zechs.  
  
After they'd gone, Une fished a blue suit out of her   
closet and held it up for her housemates' inspection.   
"Yes? No?"  
  
"Yes," said Noin, who was herself trying to find   
something to wear. "Any suggestions?"  
  
"Um. Cowboy shirt," Une suggested, working on her   
makeup. "How's this eye shadow?"  
  
Noin made a face. "Scrap it. Quick."  
  
"'Kay," Une said. She sighed as she tossed off her   
uniform jacket. "I really used to loath that color,   
but now I'm going to miss it..."  
  
"I know what you mean," Noin told her. She sighed.   
"I'm going to miss space. Not the fighting, or the   
battles, or the killing people, but... space. It's so   
quiet, so pretty, up there."  
  
"Maybe you'll go back someday," Une said as she began   
changing into her suit.  
  
"As what? A commercial shuttle pilot?" Noin shook her   
head. "Won't be the same."  
  
"Could always immigrate to the colonies," Une said   
with a weak smile.  
  
Noin laughed. "Oh yeah! Now there's an idea! Join up   
with the Gundam boys, even. After I kill that stupid   
paperboy..." She gasped. "Uhoh."  
  
"What-oh?" asked Une.  
  
"Gundams. Mobile Suits. Tallgeese."  
  
"What?" Then: "Oh crap. They're going to take it   
back, aren't they?"  
  
"They're going to try," Noin said as she pulled the   
cowboy shirt and a pair of jeans out of her closet.   
"And Zechs isn't going to be happy about that at   
*all*..."  
  
"This," said Une as she brushed out her hair, "could   
be very bad."  
  
"Lucrezia!" came Sally's shout from the front of the   
house. "Lucrezia, get out here!"  
  
"Damn," said Noin, buttoning the shirt over her jeans   
as she raced down the hall. "What? What is it?"  
  
Sally pointed out the window. Noin looked, and swore   
again. "Shit!" Outside, a tow truck was parked in the   
driveway, its hooks and chains being attached to the   
Taurus by the tow truck's driver and two men in OZ   
uniforms.  
  
"Hey!" she yelled as she dashed out the door and down   
the driveway. "Stop!"  
  
"Lucrezia Noin?" asked one of the men in uniform,   
checking something on a clipboard he held in his   
hands.  
  
"Yes," Noin said icily. "That's me."  
  
"By order of General Septum, we're repossessing this   
mobile suit."  
  
"The hell you are," Noin said, turning back towards   
the house. "Sally! Sally, my rifle!"  
  
Sally retrieved Noin's new rifle and dashed down the   
driveway with it. All the while, the three men sent   
to retrieve the suit stared in amazement.  
  
"Here ya go, Noin," said Sally.  
  
"Thank you." Noin leveled the rifle at the trio. "Now   
then. Let's talk, shall we?"  
  
"Whatever you say, lady," said one of the two OZ   
officers.  
  
Noin nodded, smiling. "Very good, boys. The person   
with the gun aimed at you is always in charge."  
  
"Listen, uh, Miss Noin, we really need to take this   
back to base..."  
  
"Why?" asked Noin. "I'm still making payments on   
time- it's *mine*." On impulse she added, "Besides,   
Lt. Zechs said I could have it."  
  
"Lt. Zechs?" asked one, then the other of the two OZ   
guys. "But- but he doesn't work here anymore... in   
fact..." He flipped pages on his clipboard. "Yep,   
we've got orders to reclaim one 'Tallgeese' suit from   
him, too..."  
  
"Take my advice, boys," Noin said. "Don't try it."  
  
The tow truck guy tapped his shoe against the   
pavement. "Time's a'wastin, boys, and I do get paid   
by the hour. No skin off my nose, but-"  
  
"All *right*," one of the two said. "Just give us a   
few here, okay?" He turned back to Noin. "Now, Miss   
Noin, it'd be really helpful if you could just give   
us the keys..."  
  
"I don't think so," Noin said, chambering a round in   
her new rifle.  
  
Sally sighed and tapped her foot. "Give it up, kids,"   
she told the three.  
  
"Sorry, ma'am. No can do."  
  
Sally sighed again. Before she could say anything   
else, there was the sound of a person in high heels   
clicking their way towards them, and a nicely-  
dressed, kindly-faced Lady Une appeared around the   
side of the Taurus.  
  
"What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" she asked,   
her voice soft.  
  
"Uh, ma'am, we have orders here to repossess this   
suit, and Miss Noin here doesn't seem to want to   
cooperate..."  
  
"I don't blame her," Une said. "Now then. Why don't   
the three of you run along and play, and I'll make   
certain that my friend delivers this suit to you   
first thing tomorrow morning."  
  
"Um..." The first soldier scratched his head.   
"Something tells me that's not a good idea, but I   
can't think of a reason why..."  
  
"If you leave now, you should have time to catch a   
movie, maybe even drive to the beach," Une said with   
a kind smile. "Doesn't that sound better than taking   
things away from people?"  
  
"Hey, yeah!" said the second guy. "C'mon, Jimmy,   
let's go."  
  
"Hmm...okay," said the first guy, Jimmy. He tipped   
his hat. "Ladies."  
  
As the tow truck pulled out of the drive, Noin   
grinned and handed her rifle back to Sally. She   
raised her hand, and she and Une slapped palms.  
  
"Right on! Thanks, Une."  
  
Une smiled. "There isn't a problem in the world that   
diplomacy won't solve."  
  
"Touché," Noin agreed.  
  
"Now then. How's about we go back inside, and you fix   
your buttons?"  
  
"What? Oh." Noin looked down at her shirt, slightly   
embarrassed to see that she'd put a few buttons in   
the wrong holes. "Okay. Good idea."  
  
* * *  
  
"Good God, what *is* that smell?" Treize asked as he   
and Zechs stepped into the latter's apartment.  
  
"You asked that once today, I started to tell you,   
and you said you didn't want to know," Zechs pointed   
out.  
  
"Oh. I suppose you're right." While Zechs sought out   
something to wear, Treize put his gloves back on and   
began picking up. "I just can't stand to look at this   
anymore, old friend," he said. He pinched his nose   
closed with one hand. "Did you actually *eat* this   
stuff?"  
  
"Yeah," Zechs called from the bedroom, "Couple days   
ago, maybe last week..."  
  
"That's it," Treize said as he pitched a moldy pizza   
crust into the nearest trash receptacle. "I'm not   
asking any more questions, and if by chance I do, I   
don't want you to answer them, okay? I've heard   
enough!"  
  
"'Kay," Zechs said, as he plunged his hands   
fearlessly into the closet. "Owwwwwwww!!!!"  
  
Treize immediately dropped the unidentifiable   
something or other he'd just picked up and raced to   
the bedroom, his gun drawn. "What? What is it??"  
  
"Something bit me," Zechs muttered, holding out his   
hand, which did indeed bear a very very small bite   
mark.  
  
A small ball of fur dashed out of the closet and   
leapt at Treize. "Meow?" it said.  
  
Treize sighed. "You have a kitten."  
  
"Yes, I do. Hannibal, meet Treize. Treize, Hannibal."  
  
Treize sighed again, deeply. "Zechs..." He caught the   
kitten as it leapt at him. "Nice kitty..." He petted   
it, and it bit his finger. "Ow."   
  
"*Bad* kitty," said Zechs.  
  
Treize shook his head, dropped the cat, and   
unceremoniously walked from the room.  
  
"Treize...buddy?" There was no answer. Zechs sighed.   
"*Bad* kitty! *Bad* kitty!" With that he went back to   
fishing in his closet, carefully this time.  
  
Meanwhile, back in the living room, Treize continued   
his cleanup efforts. He sighed, gagged again at the   
horrible stench, and hauled a large fan out of the   
dining room. He plugged it in in the living room, and   
threw open all the windows.  
  
Very, very slowly, the stench dissipated.  
  
When at last Zechs emerged from his room, he was   
dressed exactly as Noin had suggested- except for his   
mask, which he was still wearing.  
  
"Well?" asked Zechs, doing a slow 360 degree turn.  
  
Treize nodded. "Doable," he said. "Except- the mask?"  
  
Zechs hesitated. "I guess... Zechs Marquise has been   
fired from OZ, yes?"  
  
"Yes," Treize said, in a tone of voice that might as   
well have said "Duh".  
  
"Zechs Marquise existed to fight. But I'm not   
fighting anymore, am I?"  
  
"No," Treize told his friend, a bit more seriously.   
"You're not."  
  
"Well, then. Maybe it's time for Zechs Merquise to   
die." Treize looked a little startled at that. "Time   
for Zechs Merquise to die, and Milliard Peacecraft to   
come back to life."  
  
With that last, he removed the mask with a flourish   
and tossed it across the room- where it landed   
perfectly upon its peg.  
  
"Alright," said Zechs- Milliard, Treize thought -with   
no trace of hangover, all business now. "Let's get   
going. We've still got to go to your place, and meet   
the ladies." He glanced about the room. "What the   
hell happened *here*?" Milliard shook his head.   
"Nevermind, I don't want to know. Let's go."  
  
Treize nodded. Thank God, he thought, but wisely did   
not say. He's back. Wherever in the darkest hell he's   
been, he's back.  
  
* * *  
  
Treize stared in dismay at his rather large selection   
of clothing. "There's just nothing that'll do," he   
said at last, "nothing that doesn't scream 'Treize   
Khushrenada."  
  
"Yes there is," Milliard said. "I suspected this   
might happen, so..." He laid a garment bag across   
Treize's bed. "Little something I found on my last   
vacation. I thought it might be good for...well,   
something."  
  
Treize, with more than a little suspicion, opened the   
bag. And gasped. What he saw before him was a   
Hawaiian-print shirt, green, blue, and pink flowers   
on a red background, and a pair of khaki safari   
shorts. "I," said Treize quietly, "will not be seen   
in public in- that."  
  
"Yes, you will," Milliard said. "Precisely because it   
is the sort of thing that Treize Khushrenada would   
never, ever wear. I'll wait outside while you   
change." And with that he departed the room, closing   
the door behind him.  
  
"I'll get you for this, Peacecraft," Treize said. But   
he said it with a resigned sigh, as he was removing   
his uniform jacket. "Ugh. I really can't believe I'm   
going to put up with this..."  
  
Meanwhile, Milliard walked slowly around Treize's   
expansive living room, examining the elegant   
furnishings. On an end table was a large photograph   
of Lady Une- a Lady Une who actually looked pleasant,   
pretty, and kind. It was, Milliard reflected,   
probably a side to her that very few people had seen.   
He'd never really understood exactly what it was   
Treize saw in the woman- although he did to some   
extent understand why she and Lucrezia were friends.  
  
When there were only two women of reasonably high   
rank within a military organization such as OZ's   
Specials, those two were either going to be the worst   
of enemies or the best of friends. They'd apparently   
tried the former, gotten tired of it, and moved on to   
the latter. Milliard didn't quite understand that   
either, but he wasn't going to knock it- life had   
been a lot more peaceful since the war between Noin   
and Une had reached its conclusion.  
  
He had to fight to keep his face expressionless when   
Treize emerged from his room. "Ready to go?" he asked   
his friend.  
  
"Yes, damn you."  
  
As he turned away to open the door, Milliard smiled   
to himself. He wondered if the ladies would find   
Treize's appearance as amusing as he did. Probably,   
he thought.  
  
* * *  
  
"They're back," Sally announced from her post by the   
living room window.  
  
"And?" Noin asked. "What's the verdict?"  
  
"Zechs looks good... Oh, wow. No mask. He looks   
*really* good, Lucrezia."  
  
"Hands off, lady. He's *mine*!" Noin said with a   
smile, leaning over Sally's shoulder to look out the   
window. "Mmm. Man does know how to dress. Given   
proper advice, of course. But wait- who's that other   
guy?"  
  
"Treize, I think," Sally said.  
  
"Not in that getup, it's not. My God. Une, you have   
*got* to see this!"  
  
Une appeared from the kitchen, holding a mug of tea.   
"What's all the commotion about-? Oh, my."  
  
The three housemates looked at each other, and burst   
out laughing. They were still laughing when the men   
walked in the door.  
  
"Ladies," said Zechs- no, Milliard, Lucrezia thought.   
Has to be Milliard now. He bowed. "Milliard   
Peacecraft, at your service. My- less than dashing   
companion is, of course, Treize Khushrenada."  
  
"I am going to kill you, Peacecraft," Treize said   
quietly.  
  
"Oh, I think not," Noin said, sweetly.  
  
"Oh, doesn't he look just darling?" Une asked, eyeing   
Milliard. "You too, of course, dearest," she added to   
a fuming Treize.  
  
"I will *not* put up with this nonsense one minute   
longer, do you hear me? I'm not wearing this, I'm   
*not*."  
  
Milliard sighed. "Ladies, I'm afraid we're stuck here   
for at least a little while longer. Let's let Treize   
finish his tantrum, and then we'll go."  
  
"'Kay," said Noin. "Nice threads, by the way."  
  
He smiled shyly. "Thank you, Lucrezia." He began to   
kiss her, and for a while the only sound in the room   
was the ticking of Sally's watch, and Sally, counting   
slowly.  
  
Une, meanwhile, was trying to calm down Treize. "It's   
really not that bad," she said. *Yes, it is,* she   
thought, *but if I say that, we'll never get him out   
the door, so...* "And the idea is for you not to be   
recognized, correct? For all of us not to be   
recognized. Well, it's going to work- but only if you   
complain a little less. And you might want to calm   
down while you're at it- your face just about matches   
that shirt, and that won't do at all."  
  
Treize growled.  
  
Une threw up her hands. "I give up! I can't manage   
him when he's like this. Milliard, Lucrezia,   
Sally..."  
  
Of the three mentioned, only Sally looked up, still   
counting. She shrugged.  
  
Treize continued his complaining. "This is absolutely   
disgusting," he said. "It's terrible, it's awful,   
it's horrible- oh, and it's Milliard's, in case   
anyone was wondering. Milliard, are you listening to   
me?"  
  
"Two hundred-one one thousand, two-hundred two one   
thousand..."  
  
"Sally, then. Are you listening to me? This is not   
mine!"  
  
"I think it is now," Une said.  
  
"You're laughing at me, aren't you?" Treize asked.   
"You think this is funny."  
  
"No- well, only a little," Une admitted.  
  
"It's beyond horrible! I hate it, and I hate all of   
you, and I'm not going anywhere looking like this,   
I'm not I'm not I'm not!"  
  
From Milliard and Lucrezia there were a pair of   
sighs. "Does that outfit come with a matching gag?"   
the latter asked the former.  
  
"Sadly not. But I'm sure I can fix that."  
  
"Please do," said Une. "Oh, Sally- how long?"  
  
"Three minutes and thirty-six seconds, give or take."  
  
Une whistled. "Wow. Is that a record?"  
  
Sally checked something on her notepad. "No. Not even   
close."  
  
Noin coughed. "Can we go now?"  
  
"Yes, I suppose we'd better," said Milliard. "C'mon,   
Treize, old friend." Treize simply pouted at him.   
Milliard sighed. "Fine, we can take your car." Treize   
brightened. "And you can drive."  
  
"Let's go!" Treize led the way out the door. Une and   
Noin hung back, looking at Milliard with identical   
expressions of disbelief.  
  
"Are you crazy?" Une asked.  
  
And: "He is going to get us killed," Noin said.  
  
"I doubt it," Milliard said. "If he does, he'll kill   
himself as well, and do either of you really think   
Treize wants to live his last moments in *that*   
outfit?"'  
  
Both thought about that for a second, exchanged   
looks, and headed out the door.  
  
"'Bye, Sally," Milliard said as he followed them out.  
  
"See ya," Sally said. She sighed as the door closed   
behind him. "All alone...again." Sally brightened.   
"But at least I still have a job. I hope."  
  
* * *  
  
Milliard, Lucrezia, Treize, and Une made their way   
once again towards the Unemployment Office. This   
time, they reached the building's front door more or   
less without incident.  
  
Treize glanced about the room quickly, to make   
certain he didn't see anyone he knew. At first he saw   
no one, and then... "Oh, damn."  
  
"What?" asked Milliard.  
  
"Otto," said Treize bleakly. "Hide me."  
  
The other three exchanged looks, and Milliard spoke   
for all of them. "Uh...no."  
  
"Hi, guys!" Otto bounded over to them and smiled a   
greeting. "Miss Noin, Lady Une...how are ya? Say, who   
are these guys? Zechs and Treize are gonna be pretty   
jealous, methinks... well, Zechs is anyway."  
  
Noin held a hand to her face in a failed attempt to   
stifle her laughter. "What're you doing here, Otto?"   
she asked, as they all moved to get into the   
depressingly long line.  
  
"Got canned," said Otto. "I guess everybody did. All   
the Specials, anyway." He paused. "Man, could I ever   
use a drink..."   
  
To the collective horror of Noin, Milliard, Treize,   
and Une, Otto retrieved a flask from his coat pocket   
and took a loooooong drink from it.  
  
He offered the flask to Noin. "Like some?"  
  
She shuddered. "No. I have enough problems, thank   
you."  
  
"But-"  
  
Milliard stepped smoothly between Noin and Otto.   
"Lucrezia," he said, taking her hand and kissing it.   
  
Otto raised an eyebrow at that. "Hey, dude...I dunno,   
who you are, but..."  
  
"The name," said Milliard with a small smile, more   
for his friends and Lucrezia than this odd person   
before him, "is Peacecraft. Milliard Peacecraft."  
  
"But- the Peacecrafts are dead."  
  
"Not all of them, obviously," Milliard said. He went   
on: "You might have known me once as..." He paused,   
and the sound of a drum roll was heard. "...Zechs   
Merquise."  
  
Otto's jaw dropped. "Far out!"  
  
"Yes," Milliard said dryly. He sniffed the air, as if   
he'd just smelled something bad. "Have you been   
drinking, Otto? Before just a moment ago, I mean."  
  
"Well, yeah," said Otto. "'Course I have."  
  
"I see. Well. Why don't you go and stand over there?"   
Milliard pointed towards the end of the line, which   
had grown much longer while they were talking.  
  
"But, but..."  
  
"Now," Milliard said with quiet menace.  
  
"Okay," Otto said meekly. He turned and hiked to the   
end of the line.  
  
Lucrezia beamed at Milliard. "Nicely done. I'm proud   
of you."  
  
He blushed slightly. "Thank you, my dear. Zechs   
Merquise drank a bit too much, and had several...less   
than respectable friends. Milliard Peacecraft, on the   
other hand, doesn't associate with either."  
  
"Is anyone else starting to get the impression that   
Une isn't the only one of us with split   
personalities?" Treize asked.  
  
"I heard that," said Une.  
  
Treize whistled innocently. "Heard what? I didn't say   
anything."  
  
* * *  
  
"Next!" called a bored-sounding voice from the   
window.  
  
"Oh," said Treize. "That's me." He walked to the   
window. "Hello."  
  
"Name?" the even-more-bored-looking-than-sounding man   
asked.  
  
"Khushrenada. Treize Khushrenada."  
  
"Bond," said Noin somewhere behind him. "James Bond."  
  
Treize looked over his shoulder. "Shut up."  
  
"Okay," said the guy at the window. "Last place of   
employment?"  
  
"OZ."  
  
"Uh-huh. Position?"  
  
"Commander of the Specials."  
  
"Okay, right. How long have you been out of work?"  
  
"Um...about six hours or so?"  
  
"Mmmkay. Skills?"  
  
"Eh?" asked Treize.  
  
The man sighed. "What can you do?"  
  
"Pilot a mobile suit, for one thing."  
  
"Huh. We don't get many calls for that these days,   
sorry...what else you got?"  
  
"Womanizing," a voice that might have been Otto's   
called from somewhere. There was the sound of someone   
smacking him. "Oh, sorry, that's right; he doesn't do   
that anymore. Nevermind."  
  
"And?" asked the Unemployment guy.  
  
"Fencing. Dancing. Um... bird-watching." Treize   
thought for a moment. "You know, I bet I'd be a   
really good food critic. Put that down."  
  
"Sure," said the guy. "We'll be in touch." *Not*, his   
tone said. "Next!"  
  
Noin stepped up to the window.  
  
"Name?"  
  
"Lucrezia Noin."  
  
"Spell that?"  
  
Noin sighed. "You can spell Khushrenada, but not   
Noin?"  
  
"Just spell your name, honey, I haven't got all day."  
  
"What was that last?" Milliard called from his place   
at the head of the line.  
  
"I said," the guy said in quite a different tone,   
"could you please spell your last name for me, miss?"  
  
Milliard nodded. "That's what I thought."  
  
The unemployment guy, whose nametag read DAN, leaned   
over his counter. "So. He your boyfriend, or what?"  
  
"Yes," said Noin. "Lucrezia Noin. N-O-I-N."  
  
"Right...okay. Last place of employment?"  
  
"OZ."  
  
"And what'd you do there?"  
  
"Mobile suit pilot, and pilot instructor."  
  
"Been out of work how long?"  
  
"About five hours."  
  
"Skills?"  
  
"Mobile suit pilot." Noin scratched her chin. "I can   
ride a motorcycle, does that count for anything?"  
  
"No. Anything else?"  
  
"She gives good beauty tips," Une said. "Doesn't like   
to admit it, though."  
  
"If you write that down, I will kill you," Noin said   
flatly.  
  
"Okay, no problem. Next!"  
  
"Milliard Peacecraft," said Milliard, sounding bored.   
"OZ. Former mobile suit pilot. I've been out of work   
five and a half hours. So far. I can pilot almost   
anything, I'm a fairly good shot, and I make a mean   
cheese omelet. And very nice coffee."  
  
"Ooookay," said the guy. "Next, please?"  
  
Une approached the window.  
  
"Name."  
  
"Lady Une."  
  
"Spell that?"  
  
"L-A-D-Y U-N-E."  
  
"Mmkay. Last place of employment?"  
  
"OZ."  
  
"Occupation?"  
  
"Mobile suit pilot, personal assistant to His   
Excellency, Treize."  
  
"The dude in the Hawaiian shirt?"  
  
Une winced. "Yes."  
  
"Oy," said the guy. "Skills?"  
  
"Mobile suit piloting, assassination- Ow!" she   
exclaimed, as Treize kicked her. "I mean, target   
practice..."  
  
"Next!"  
  
Otto, who'd cut in line, dashed up to the window amid   
numerous oaths and curses.  
  
"I'm, uh, Otto."  
  
"Last name?"  
  
"That's my last name."  
  
"First name, then?"  
  
"Same."  
  
"Oookay," said Dan the Unemployment guy.  
  
"I can pilot a mobile suit," Otto said proudly.  
  
"Not well," Milliard called out. "Please make a note   
of that. You really had to see what he did to mine to   
believe that much damage was possible."  
  
"Hey!" said Otto.  
  
"Don't 'hey' me, you little twit... do you have any   
*idea* how long it took me to scrub your blood out of   
Tallgeese?" Milliard shuddered.  
  
"What are we still doing here?" Treize asked. "Can't   
we go now, please?"  
  
"...and I can pilot anything that moves-"  
  
"-and crash it," Une, Treize, Noin, and Milliard   
called on their way out the door.  
  
* * *  
  
They decided to go back to Milliard's apartment after   
leaving the Unemployment office, mostly because none   
of them were in the mood to look at Sally, who unlike   
them, still *had* a job.  
  
But when they got there, they found Milliard's stuff   
tossed all over the front lawn, the landlord waiting   
impatiently on the porch, and an eviction notice   
tacked to the door.  
  
Milliard sighed. "Damn, that was quick."  
  
"What gives?" Treize yelled up to the landlord,   
having decided that as he looked ridiculous, it   
didn't matter how he behaved, or to whom. "I'm sure   
he can afford to pay at least *this* month's rent..."  
  
"'s not what General Septum told me," the landlord   
said.  
  
"Septic again," Milliard said. "I'm getting kind of   
tired of that guy, aren't you guys?"  
  
"Yeah," said Noin. She retrieved Zechs' mask- which   
she noticed was broken. "But, look...your stuff."  
  
"Oh, damnit," said Treize. "We just had that place   
cleaned up, too. You should've seen it, Lucrezia, it   
looked like a person could *live* there again."  
  
Noin sighed.  
  
Milliard took the mask from Noin, looked at it, and   
tossed it towards the Dumpster with a sigh. "This is   
really uncalled for, you know?" he called up to the   
landlord. Milliard started up the stairs. "Come on,   
you guys."  
  
"What are we doing?" Une asked.  
  
"I want my stuff," Milliard said. "What's left of it,   
anyway."  
  
The four of them made their way up to the porch of   
Milliard's ex-apartment.   
  
"I'm sorry-" the landlord started.  
  
"Don't," said Lucrezia Noin. "Even. Start." From out   
of nowhere appeared her new rapier. "Understood?"  
  
"Uh...yeah."  
  
Milliard and Treize were conferring briefly with Une   
on the other end of the porch.  
  
"...got to get in there somehow," Treize was saying.  
  
Une nodded. "Have to break in, though."  
  
"Right in front of the landlord?" Milliard asked.  
  
"What's he going to do, evict you?" Treize asked.  
  
"Mmm. Point. Okay. Lucrezia?" he called out.  
  
"Yes, dear?"  
  
"We're going to break into the apartment now, we'd   
like your help."  
  
"Hey, now!" exclaimed the landlord.  
  
"Move it or loose it," said Lady Une, who'd retrieved   
her glasses from somewhere and had them perched on   
her nose again.   
  
"Damn you!" the landlord swore. "You can't just-"  
  
The sound of breaking glass cut him off, as Noin   
tossed a potted plant through the apartment's living   
room window. Noin and her friends quickly followed   
the plant- it was a large plant in a large pot -  
through the window.  
  
"That's it, I'm calling the police!" the landlord   
yelled.  
  
"Go for it," Noin told him. "We'll be long gone by   
the time the cops get here."  
  
And, indeed, they were. Most of Milliard's things,   
they discovered, were on the lawn, except for his   
cat, which was in a tree. Lady Une, sans glasses once   
again, volunteered to fetch it, while the other three   
reclaimed Milliard's stuff.  
  
"Where are we going to take all of this, anyway?"   
Noin asked, using a pair of barbecue tongs to place   
several pairs of underwear into a suitcase.  
  
"Your place or mine," Treize said with a devilish   
grin.  
  
"Mine," said Noin. "I'd really like to get back there   
before they try to reclaim the Taurus again."  
  
"They- what?" asked Treize.  
  
And: "Tallgeese?" asked Milliard. He glanced around   
the parking lot, but did not see his treasured mobile   
suit. "What the hell??"  
  
Noin placed a sympathetic arm around his shoulders.   
"C'mon. Let's go home. We'll figure out something, I   
promise."  
  
* * *  
  
"Weaklings!"   
  
There was the sound of a gun being fired. "Ow!"  
  
The four of them heard the shout halfway up the   
block. Treize, who was already speeding, floored it.  
  
At the Noin, Po, and Une residence, they found   
sitting on the porch one very ticked-off looking   
Sally, arguing with the paperboy.  
  
"Weak! You are all weak!" Wufei the paperboy   
screamed. Then another shot, then: "Ow, damn you,   
woman!"  
  
Noin sighed as she got out of the car. "Sally?" she   
called.  
  
"What?" snapped Sally.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"This!" Sally exclaimed, waving an eviction notice in   
Noin's face. "They're throwing us out. And this- this   
horrible little *creature* here, and his friends,   
tried to steal your Taurus..."  
  
She pointed unnecessarily to the Mobile Suit, which   
Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell were standing beside,   
arguing.  
  
"I can so hotwire this thing!" Duo exclaimed.  
  
"Whatever. I work alone," Heero said. "If anybody's   
stealing this suit it's going to be me. Alone."  
  
"Stealing is weak!" said Wufei. Sally pulled the   
trigger again.  
  
Une sighed. "Sally. You're supposed to smack him if   
he says weak, shoot him if he insults us, and smack   
him where the sun don't shine if he-"  
  
"Oh yeah. If he does both, right, sorry."  
  
In the car, Treize was bashing his head against the   
steering wheel.   
  
"You're gonna hurt yourself doing that," Milliard   
said.  
  
"I *know*. I just don't care."  
  
Milliard sighed. "Cheer up, pal- if *one* of us still   
has a place to go home to, I would bet it's you."  
  
"Oh yeah." Treize honked the horn. "Lucrezia! Une!   
Get your stuff. Sally, get those three. I have an   
idea."  
  
"Uh-oh," said Sally, who was already working on tying   
up and gagging Wufei. She screamed. "He bit me!"  
  
"Eeew," said Une. "Gundam-pilot bite. Had a rabies   
shot recently?" She paused. "And, Treize? I'm right   
here. You don't have to yell."  
  
"Oh. Sorry."  
  
Sally deposited a bound and gagged Wufei in the back   
of the convertible. He landed on one of Milliard's   
many suitcases. "Mmmphhhmph," Wufei muttered.  
  
"Did he say 'injustice'?" Milliard asked.  
  
Wufei nodded vigorously. Milliard smacked him upside   
the head. "Thought so."  
  
Duo and Heero had taken one look at the ex-OZ folks   
and taken off running. It didn't take Sally very long   
to catch them, though. She shook her head as she   
dragged them back, one in each hand, by the ear. "Too   
much time playing video games, boys, and not enough   
exercising," Sally chided them.  
  
Une and Noin, meanwhile, busied themselves collecting   
their own things, and tossed them into the back of   
the car, atop the three Gundam pilots.  
  
"Ow!" exclaimed Duo, who'd eaten through his gag   
already.  
  
"Doesn't anyone ever feed you?" Milliard asked as he   
re-gagged the Gundam pilot.  
  
"No," Sally answered for them. "I mean, just look at   
Heero there. All skin and spandex- er, skin and   
bone."  
  
* * *  
  
Sometime later, at the Khushrenada mansion...  
  
Treize leaned back in his La-Z-Boy recliner, sipped a   
glass of wine, and sighed. "Ah, this is the life."  
  
"Yeah," Une agreed from her spot near the wet bar,   
where she was going fishing for snack food.   
"Unemployed, homeless..."  
  
"Homeless?" Treize shook his head. "No, no, no, my   
dear. Not homeless at all. This-" he gestured   
expansively "-this is home now, yours and mine,   
Millard's and Lucrezia's, and Sally's..."  
  
"And ours?" asked Duo, who had once again eaten   
through his gag.  
  
Sally sighed. "For God's sake, someone feed those   
boys. Quick."  
  
"No, not *you*," Treize said, catching the candy bar   
Une tossed him and throwing it to Duo. "Eat this,   
please. I guarantee you it tastes better than- what'd   
we use to gag them?"  
  
"Duct tape," said Une.  
  
"Thanks," said Duo as he dug in. "Maybe you're not so   
evil after all."  
  
"Don't say that," said Heero seriously. "They're OZ.   
Even if they don't work for OZ anymore..."  
  
Milliard glanced at him. "Oh. That reminds me. I've   
been wanting to talk to you about something, Heero."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"My sister."  
  
*Uhoh*, Heero thought. "What about her?" he asked   
cautiously.  
  
"Stay away from her."  
  
"Psst," said Duo none too quietly. "Who's his sister,   
Heero?"  
  
"Relena," Heero said.  
  
"Oh."  
  
Heero turned back to Milliard. "Mister, I would   
*love* to stay away from Relena, but she won't stay   
away from *me*."  
  
"A likely story," said Treize.  
  
Duo nodded. "It's not true, don't you believe a word   
of it. He follows her everywhere, like some kind of   
lost puppy or something." Heero smacked him. "Ow!   
What'd you do that for?"  
  
"INJUSTICE!!!!!!!!!" came the furious cry from   
somewhere very close by. Everyone held their ears,   
especially Milliard, who had just a touch of Zechs'   
hangover left.  
  
"Okay," Treize said, glaring around the room. "'Fess   
up. Who untied Wufei?"  
  
Sally reluctantly raised her hand. "He looked so   
helpless just lying there..."  
  
"Sal, he bit you," Noin reminded her.  
  
"I know, but it wasn't a bad bite...just a scratch,   
really."  
  
"Got anymore food?" asked Duo, drifting over to Une   
and the wet bar. "Oooh... Snickers!"  
  
"Yes, keep eating, please," Heero said.  
  
"You are all weak, pathetic..."  
  
"You tried to steal my mobile suit!" Noin was yelling   
at Heero and Duo.  
  
"Yeah, so?" asked Duo, his mouth full of Snickers.  
  
"Don't talk with your mouth full, it's disgusting,"   
Treize said.  
  
"So are you, you're all weak, pathetic creatures,   
especially you women..."  
  
"Alright!" Milliard exclaimed. "THAT'S IT! I HAVE HAD   
ENOUGH, DO YOU HEAR ME? ENOUGH! WUFEI, SHUT UP RIGHT   
THIS MINUTE!  
  
"Why?" asked Wufei.  
  
Milliard turned to Sally. "If he insults women and   
says 'weak' in the same sentence, we....?  
  
"Kick him where the sun don't shine," Sally said.  
  
Milliard nodded, and proceeded to do so.  
  
"Owwwwww! I am weak, weak, WEAK!"  
  
"Yes, you are. And you're going to shut up now,   
understand?" Milliard gagged him again. "And no one's   
going to take the gag off this time, are they?"  
  
Silence reigned.  
  
"Are they, *Sally*?"  
  
"Um...no."  
  
* * *  
  
"Hey, Mr. Peacecraft?"  
  
Milliard rather reluctantly looked up from the game   
of chess he was playing with Noin. "What?"  
  
"Are you going to let me and Heero go someday?"  
  
"You didn't mention Wufei," Milliard said.  
  
"Well, truth is, we're all a little tired of him,   
too. Him you can keep."  
  
"We don't want him," said Noin. Then: "Why the hell   
is it so quiet?"  
  
Sally pointed to the couch, where Treize and Une were   
rather enthusiastically making out. "Ten minutes   
fifty-five seconds."  
  
"Maybe," Milliard said in answer to Duo's question.   
"If your friend promises to leave my sister alone."  
  
"But I'm *not*-" Heero started. Duo gagged him once   
again.  
  
"Sorry 'bout that. I really don't know what's gotten   
into him."  
  
"Oh, Treize," came Une's voice from the vicinity of   
the couch.  
  
"Oh, Une," said Treize.  
  
"Oh, brother," said Noin, because, well, somebody had   
to.  
  
And: "Oh God. Get a room, you guys," said Sally.  
  
Treize tore himself away from Une long enough to   
glare in Sally's direction. "It's *my* house, which I   
am letting you all stay in out of the goodness of my   
heart. Why don't all of *you* get out?"  
  
"Please?" Une, once again sans glasses, added.  
  
"Um..." said Duo.  
  
Sally grabbed his arm. "Let's go. I don't think this   
is something children should see, anyway."  
  
"We are not children," said Heero.  
  
"Whatever," said Sally, as she grabbed hold of him   
too.  
  
"Did she say something?" Une asked Treize.  
  
"I don't know and I don't care," Treize replied.  
  
Milliard and Lucrezia looked at each other. Both   
rolled their eyes, then jumped about a mile at the   
sounds of rustling clothing coming from the couch.  
  
"Let's go!" Milliard shouted, grabbing the still   
bound-and-gagged Wufei.  
  
And: "Double-time," Lucrezia called, herding Sally   
and the boys ahead of her.  
  
After the door slammed closed behind them, Lady Une   
set down the handkerchief she'd been tying into knots   
and untying. "Well. They're gone."  
  
Treize grinned at her. "Yes. They are. And I, my   
dear, have had more than enough of this awful getup   
of Milliard's. Perhaps you could help me...?"  
  
Sally, who'd been listening at the door, shuddered   
and dashed off down the hall towards the rec room.   
"You guys! Wait up!"  
  
"What kept you?" asked Duo.  
  
"Eavesdropping," Sally said.  
  
"You don't really want to do that-" Noin started.  
  
"I know, Sally said.   
  
Milliard picked up a deck of cards. "Strip poker,   
anyone?"  
  
Sally buried her head in her hands, then screeched as   
Heero and Duo began dragging her off towards the   
kitchen. "Snack time!" exclaimed Duo.  
  
Meanwhile, Wufei had finally gotten rid of his gag.   
"How dare you leave me here...Weaklings!"  
  
Milliard and Noin exchanged looks.  
  
"Should we?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, most defiantly."  
  
Together they picked up Wufei, and carried him   
outside to the rec room's patio.  
  
"Put me down, weaklings!"  
  
"Sure thing," Lucrezia said. "Ready?"  
  
"On three."  
  
"One...two...three!"  
  
Wufei found himself flying through the air...only to   
land with a splash and a curse in Treize's swimming   
pool. He opened his mouth to yell something else   
about weakness, and swallowed pool water.  
  
On the balcony, Noin and Milliard shared a grin. "Now   
that we're alone..."  
  
"Oh, brother!" said Duo, as he, Heero, and Sally   
returned to the rec room. "Where's Wufei?"  
  
"Went swimming," Milliard said.  
  
"Which way to the pool?" Duo asked.  
  
Noin pointed over the railing, and the boys dashed   
off, dragging Sally along with them.  
  
"I think I'll just lock that door now," said   
Milliard.  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
"Did you hear something?" Treize asked Une.  
  
"What? No, just something about weaklings, and   
something that sounded like someone telling Wufei to   
shut up..."  
  
"Oh. Okay."  
  
"Treize?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Shut up and kiss me."  
  
"Okay."  
  



End file.
